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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819869">I Fell in Love With a Ghost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachie_Boo123/pseuds/Rachie_Boo123'>Rachie_Boo123</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brotherly Love, Drug Use, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Pre-Canon, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Teen Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:46:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachie_Boo123/pseuds/Rachie_Boo123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus is 16 and he’s worried about everything a teenage boy his age should be. Acne. School. His siblings. And whether or not the ghost he fell in love with feels the same about him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Allison Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves &amp; Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves &amp; Vanya Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Am I posting this instead of updating my unfinished fic? Yes. Yes I am. </p><p>This fic idea came from a song titled Ashlyn by Ryan Pollie (I recommend giving it a listen!). I hope you like this. It’s going to be a around 10 chapters I think and be lots of fluff and angst of course. All mistakes are my own.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His back rested against the solid wood of the door legs spread out before him, bruised and battered. The porcelain is cool on his legs, which are bare and covered in goosebumps against the checkered tile. His umbrella academy uniform, the pants swapped out for a skirt he stole from Allison, covered in speckles of blood. The fabric torn at the seams and his tie hanging by threads. His hands won’t stop shaking, no matter how hard he clenches his fists or how much the bite of his nails burns his palms. His eyes are swimming with tears. And every minute that passes seems to be worse than the last till he can’t take the voices anymore.</p><p>His head, with blood matted curls and tear stained cheeks, slams into the back of the door. There is a brief second of silence, before it all returns louder than before. He slams his head back again, enjoying the sickening crunch and the quiet that follows. And when that doesn’t stick he does it again and again and-</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>Klaus pauses, head poised to slam back into the wood, this voice was different. Different than the screams of the dead and the cries of the bloody.</p><p>At some point he must have closed his eyes because he has to pry them open through tears and muddied make up to see the boy in front of him.</p><p>And now Klaus is wondering if he gave himself a concussion because there is definitely an <em>angel</em> standing in front of him.</p><p>He doesn’t look much older than Klaus, if not the same age. But he’s glowing and he is so incredibly beautiful that Klaus feels a lump in his throat and a stinging in his eyes.</p><p>His eyes feel like they are staring directly into Klaus’s soul and he can’t catch his breath to answer let alone even form a coherent thought.</p><p>The boy steps closer than before crouching down, tilting his head to the side trying to see the damage Klaus has done to himself.</p><p>“Hit your head pretty good there, huh?” He says, voice like honey.</p><p>And Klaus barely hears him because he’s too busy counting the freckles on his skin like consultations in the night sky.</p><p>And Klaus isn’t sure he’s ever seen a prettier brown than the pools of hazel he’s looking into right now. There’s swirls of amber and mahogany with what Klaus swears are legit sparkles.</p><p>And the glow behind the angel has only gotten brighter since he’s gotten closer, so much so that Klaus almost has to squint but doesn’t want to miss a fraction of his face so he forces his eyes open.</p><p>And Klaus, for all his one liners and quips, can’t seem to think of anything better to say besides: “What?”</p><p>But apparently it was the best choice he’s ever made in his life, which isn’t saying much, because the sound of laughter from the boy was something he would never forget.</p><p>“I said how many fingers am I holding up?” The boy repeats, because apparently he already said it once and there were fingers dancing in Klaus’s vision.</p><p>“Uh...” Klaus stutters, eyes flickering to the fingers for a moment before being drawn back to the angel’s eyes. “Like three...Um I mean definitely three.” And he punctures the last line with a crooked grin, hoping to at least be somewhat charming in his concussed state.</p><p>The angel is laughing again, his nose scrunching and dimples corkscrewing into the side of his cheeks. And now Klaus is wondering if he’s died and gone to heaven.</p><p>“I think I’m dead,” Klaus whispers, voice trailing off as he looks at the boy before him knowing nothing this good could ever appear in his life.</p><p>The boy is smiling now, but it’s sad and his dimples have disappeared.</p><p>“Guess that makes two of us then,” he musses,<br/>voice strained and tired, fingers moving to brush against Klaus’s cheek but instead passing right through the skin.</p><p>And Klaus, who can’t help but talking without thinking, blurts out: “I’ve never seen a ghost as pretty as you.”</p><p>And now the boy is blushing and Klaus didn’t think he could get more attractive but he had been wrong. And he’s never been so happy to be wrong.</p><p>The boy is looking around the bathroom, which although large, feels cramped with the bloodied corpses of spirits and ghouls who can’t seem to move on and leave Klaus the <em>fuck</em> alone.</p><p>“That’s not saying much,” the boy says, his mouth pulling up in the corner and eyes sparkling even brighter than before.</p><p>“Are you an angel?” Klaus asks, voice slurred and fingers reaching out to grab someone he could never hold.</p><p>The boy is laughing again, but it leaves a bitter taste in Klaus’s mouth.</p><p>“Furthest thing from it.”</p><p>But Klaus doesn’t believe him, because his skin is glowing and his eyes are fireworks. His voice is like velvet and his smile the sun.</p><p>“I don’t believe you.” He finally says, voice still slurred but more confident than before.</p><p>“I think that’s just the concussion talking, Klaus.”</p><p>And Klaus isn’t sure if his name has ever sounded this good before.</p><p>“If you’re not an angel how do you know my name?” He asks, a brow lifting in question.</p><p>The boy is standing now, moving closer to the corpses that surrounded them and further from Klaus. And Klaus is reaching for him, eyes blurry with tears and blood that’s smeared into his lashes.</p><p>“We all do, Klaus,” the angel says, arms stretching out to the ghosts around him, like he’s one of them. “You’re the only one who can hear us.”</p><p>And Klaus wants to cry, not because his head hurts but because his <em>brain</em> does. Because he just can’t wrap his mind around the beautiful creature in front of him being one of <em>them</em>. One of things that plagued his nightmares. That screamed his name in the dark corners of the mausoleum. That ruined his fucking life.</p><p>But all he manages to do is stutter nonsensical words, unsure if the concussion or the sheer shock is speaking for him.</p><p>“You should get your mom to look at that head wound, it was already pretty bad before you decided to...” he trails off, hand gesturing to the door vaguely.</p><p>Klaus nods, eyes feeling heavy and throat full of cotton all of a sudden as he wonders how long the boy was there and how Klaus could have possibly missed him.</p><p>And now the angel, because Klaus is still sure he is angelic, is looking at him concerned, like Klaus’s well being actually matters to him. He’s walking towards Klaus again and for a moment Klaus is worried the boy is going to run right into him but instead he passes through the wall like all the others.</p><p>He’s gone long enough for Klaus to wonder if he was hallucinating, before he appears again.</p><p>“Your mom was just down the hall checking on one of your brothers, I think she’ll stop by here next for you.” He says, crouching down again so he can peer into Klaus’s eyes.</p><p>Klaus can’t seem to do anything but nod, the blood leaking into his eyes and blinding him for a second before he manages to scrub it away with his shaking fingers.</p><p>“I hope you don’t do this again,” the boy says, voice sad and low.</p><p>Klaus has the audacity to look confused which only further breaks the other boys heart.</p><p>There’s a knock on the door before the boy can speak again, and Grace’s voice sounds muffled through the wood and the fog that’s filling Klaus’s head when she asks if he’s alright.</p><p>Klaus is slumped against the door, bloody with stars dancing in his vision. And he kind of feels like he might throw up and pass out all at once. He has bruises layered on bruises and he’s pretty sure he has a concussion. And his hands are still fucking shaking and their covered in so much blood that he doesn’t even know if it’s all his anymore. But he’s staring into the eyes of an <em>angel</em> and he can’t help but think he’s better than he’s been in a <em>long</em> time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As it turns out Klaus did have a concussion. He also lost about half a litre of blood and was on so many uppers that he was seeing sounds. And unfortunately, all of this added up to the heartbreaking realization that Klaus did in fact hallucinate the angel.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hadn’t seen him since the bathroom incident. And he’s guessing he never will. Though he would be lying if the thought of giving himself another concussion and snorting a line to self induce the hallucination hadn’t crossed his mind. But he remembers the sadness on the angel’s face at the thought of Klaus bashing in his brains again. And even though it was probably his self conscious trying to drill the tiniest bit of self preservation into him, he still didn’t want to betray him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead he settled for the memories and the comforting hallucinations that were all he had left of the boy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Until, exactly 8 days after the incident, when Klaus was standing in front of the mirror in the very same bathroom. He was leaning over the sink, doing his best to stop the shaking of his hands so the eyeliner would draw a smooth line across his lid.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here I was thinking the shaking was from the concussion,” an all too familiar voice says from behind him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You’d think someone who constantly heard voices wouldn’t be surprised by another voice in his head. But he was. So surprised he almost poked himself in the eye with his eyeliner and swiftly dropped it in the sink.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could see the boy, just as beautiful as he remembered, looking back at him in the mirror slightly amused at his actions.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Klaus swivelled around, eyes scanning the angel once again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re real?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t think I would have to explain this to the boy that sees ghosts, but yes. I am real.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Klaus isn’t sure what to say. He had convinced himself this boy wasn’t real, yet here he was.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How is your head by the way?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Klaus is stuttering again in reply, suddenly realizing how annoying it must be to be Diego. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I-it’s fine,” Klaus waves his hand flippantly before continuing, “I just really didn’t think you were real. I see some fucked up shit, that’s kinda my deal, but I’ve never seen....something like you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The nameless boy is smiling wider now and Klaus has already decided it’s his favourite thing, real or not.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Klaus nods vigorously, his curls bouncing as he does so.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re like...” he pauses for a moment, trying to find the words to describe the angel “perfect.” He finally decides, grinning wildly like he’s proud of summing up the boy before him so well.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy only shakes his head at this opening his mouth to reply, but Klaus is talking again seeming to <em>finally</em> find his voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think it’s the drugs,” he pauses, looking at the angel and lifting his hand up again to show the quiver of his fingers “though now that I think about it I’m pretty sure I’ve always been a little shaky and the drugs just make it worse. Well, I guess the lack of drugs would be more accurate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wants to reach out and grasp his hands between his, to stop the shaking until Klaus is still and peaceful.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But your head,” the angel asks again, concern clear in his voice “it’s okay right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now Klaus is smiling, not grinning. It’s a soft smile that is almost shy. A smile that if anyone else who knew him saw it would say it was out of place on his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I mean. I was totally concussed,” he laughs, like this is something funny “and I lost a stupid amount of blood. But it was nothing mom couldn’t stitch up and a little bag of O negative couldn’t fix”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m glad you’re alright, had me worried there for a second with all your angel talk.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh no,” Klaus insists, “there’s no doubt in my mind you’re an angel. No concussion needed for that conclusion.” He pauses, eyes flickering over the glowing figure “I am however still debating on if you’re real or not. But who am I to give a horse a gift?” Klaus finishes, lopsided smile showing his pearly whites.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The saying is-“ he stops, shaking his head at Klaus, in amusement and defeat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How about you just call me Gabriel?” He concedes, because he’s not sure he’ll ever convince the boy in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you’re telling me Gabriel is not an angel’s name?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Klaus starts laughing, a high pitched giggle that Gabriel can’t help but chuckle along with until they are both laughing so hard they don’t remember why they started.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once the laughter fizzles out Klaus turns around once again, picking up his eyeliner from the sink and glancing into the mirror.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You ever tried to put this stuff on?” He asks, fingers shaking and the line coming out crooked once again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gabriel shakes his head, moving to look at Klaus’s reflection. “It looks hard.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It really fucking is!” Klaus giggles, fingers smudging the black makeup.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I kinda like the smokey look.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Klaus eyes flickering upwards, green meeting brown in the reflective glass. “Really?” He smiles, like he’s never heard a compliment before.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, a lot.”<br/></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Smokey it is then,” Klaus decides, fingers mushing the black kohl around his jade eyes. When he’s finishes he wipes the remainder onto his uniform before turning around.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ta da! How do I look?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And now Klaus is blushing, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. It’s funny how one word can make you feel so fucking good, like maybe the day wasn’t going to be so bad.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, uh, thanks.” Klaus pauses, eyes flickering around the room nervously “y-you too,”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And now they are both blushing and Klaus is pretty sure he’s in love. Granted, he’s </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>thought</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1"> he’s been in love at least a dozen times already but this time he thinks it’s for real.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sure, he thought is was for real with the guy in the club who slipped molly onto his tongue and whispered promises in his ears. But he turned out to be married and just wanted another dirty secret to hide from his wife.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Klaus had cried for </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>weeks</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1"> over him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His father growing angry at Klaus’s sadness, although that was nothing new.So he saved his tears for his pillow and settled for crawling into Ben or Diego’s beds in the middle of the night when his thoughts got too loud.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then there was Liam, a fan boy who loved the umbrella academy and everyone in it. But it turned out he loved the </span>
  <span class="s2">idea</span>
  <span class="s1"> of Klaus and being famous a lot more than he </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>actually</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1"> loved Klaus. That fizzled out in a month and Klaus was once again left in a puddle of his own tears.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then there was Matt, he was charming, handsome, sweet. Pretty much the perfect guy, until he wasn’t. He liked <em>almost</em> everything about Klaus. And that was the problem.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It started out small, asking him to wear less make up and to not be so loud. Klaus didn’t mind, because he knew he was a lot to handle.Until one day Klaus looked in the mirror and realized he had completely lost himself. Funnily enough, he was the only boyfriend Reginald ever liked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He came to Diego after a few months too long and told him what had been happening. And Diego, who was already full of anger and hate took his knives and his steely eyes out the door and told Klaus to sit tight till he came back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hours later when he returned, to Klaus wrapped in blankets on his bed and a blank look in his eyes, he and his knives were slick with blood. Klaus never asked what happened and Diego never said. But he never did hear from Matt again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Diego was sure to tell him, his fingers grasping Klaus’s face firmly so he could stare into his hazy eyes that </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>whatever that was, it wasn’t love</em>.</span>
  <span class="s1"> Klaus was confused but nodded anyway.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Different versions of the same story had played out over the years for as long as he could remember. From his first crush to his last it was always the same. He fell in love first, head over heels in a matter of minutes. Sometimes he thinks he must love too hard and too much. That no one could ever love him the way he loves them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He would do anything. Say anything. Be anything for them. But they would never do the same. All he really wants is for them to love him. But he supposes that’s asking too much.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Gabriel? This feeling, that makes him feel a little sick because of all the butterflies in his stomach and a lot happy because of the smile on his face that doesn’t seem to fade. It felt different. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the way Gabriel was looking at him or the glow that surrounded his body. But there was something different about this love. Like maybe it would be reciprocated. Like maybe all he had to give would finally be accepted. Not just taken for granted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then mom was knocking on the door, urging Klaus to hurry downstairs for training once again and when he looked back up Gabriel was gone. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys liked seeing more of our mystery boy Gabriel! Let me know what you think :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This has a lot more angst than I originally intended, next chapter I promise fluff</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Diego I’m in love!” Klaus proclaims, skipping into his brothers room practically singing.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Do you ever knock?” Diego growls, knives clutched in his hand as he carelessly tosses one into the bullseye on the wall.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“There are no secrets between us, brother!” Klaus giggles, flopping onto Diego’s bed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego rolls his eyes, far too used to his brothers antics to comment.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“In love huh? Who’s the lucky guy this time?” Diego asks, tossing another knife towards the wall.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“His name is Gabriel!” Klaus starts, pulling a pillow to his chest and squeezing it tightly as he rolls to face his knife welding brother. “He’s sooo beautiful Diego!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Is he nice?” Diego asks, throwing the next knife a bit harder than intended.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Klaus is nodding vigorously at this “So so so nice! He said I was pretty-“ Diego scoffs at this, knowing just what guys have to say to Klaus to qualify as </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">nice</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2">.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“And,” Klaus continues already sensing the eye roll brewing in Diego “he was worried when I cracked my head open last week and bled out all over the bathroom!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He can see the excitement all over Klaus’s face. If his giggling and the way he props his legs up behind them, swinging his feet back and forth like a character from a teen movie wasn’t enough to tip him off. He wanted to be excited for Klaus, he did. But the bar was on the fucking ground when it came to his brothers standards. He loved him dearly, but his love life was a mess.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He fell in love every other week. He once came home carrying a cup of coffee with a heart drawn on the lid claiming he had found his soul mate. When he realized the cup was meant for an Emily and not a Klaus he was crushed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego has seen this before, a hundred times even. Klaus is a dreamer and someone has to keep him grounded. This someone always seemed to be him, because even Ben was too hopeful to reel in their brother. He does his best to pull him back down to reality, but more often than not he’s left just picking up the pieces of another heartbroken Klaus.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego worried that some day, Klaus’s heart will have been broken too many times to recover. That he will finally realize being sweet and open and kind only gets you hurt. And as selfish as it was, because Diego already knew all of this, he never wanted Klaus to find out. He wanted to keep him like this forever, because if Klaus could believe it then maybe he could too, one day. But in the mean time he was left trying to comfort a brother who was much to sweet for the life they lived with promises he didn’t believe.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He keeps his voice light, as he drops the knives on his dresser and moves to sit next to his brother on the bed “Klaus you don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to boys.” His hand hovers over Klaus’s back, wanting to rub it in comfort like their mother does before he decides against it, his hands retreating to his sides. </span>
</p><p class="p3">Now it’s Klaus’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers reaching without hesitation to grasp the sleeve of Diego’s shirt as he turns to look at him.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Diegooooo,” he whines, fingers tugging on the fabric and chin moving to rest on the pillow clutched in his other hand “he’s different. I swear! For one, he’s like basically our age!”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego sighs in relief, happy to not have to track down another middle aged creep “Well thank fuck for that.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I really like him Di,” Klaus whispers, avoiding his brothers gaze now.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And now Diego is sighing because he really doesn’t want to talk about emotions with Klaus, </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">again</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2">. But his brother has tears clinging to his lashes and he’s grasping Diego’s shirt like he’s the only person who he can trust with this secret.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Alright, alright,” he concedes, “tell me all about this guy and why he’s going to be my brother in law.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Klaus is smiling now, looking up at Diego like he hangs the moon in the sky. And Diego is sure the uncomfortable lump in his throat is just a coincidence.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t really know that much about him, yet. But Di, he’s so nice! So nice it kinda confuses me sometimes. Like he actually cares about what happens to me...” he trails off, biting his lip in thought before continuing “but I love it. And I love him! And gosh</span>
  <span class="s2">, he’s so gorgeous and I think, for once, he really likes me! Likes me like I like him! Can you believe that?” Klaus is almost panting as he finishes, having barely taken a breath between words.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego squeezes Klaus’s arm firmly, his brows furrowed as he does so, hoping Klaus gets the message that </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">yes, obviously he can believe that. Who wouldn’t like you? </span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2">which is a lot easier to do than to actually say any of that. And he knows Klaus hears him because they spent years communicating this way.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So where did you meet anyways?” Diego asks after a beat, having swung his legs around the same way as Klaus’s and flopped onto his back beside him on the bed. Finding the conversation much easier to have when he could avoid his brothers eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Um, that’s kind of...</span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">complicated</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2">” Klaus finishes lamely, unsure how else to describe it, his fingers creating a loose thread in the pillow case to draw his attention to anything else.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego only quirks a brow and slightly turns his head, favouring not having to speak when he doesn’t have to, especially about this kind of thing. His hand swatting Klaus’s finger away from his pillow, trying to keep the material intact.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well, I kind of met him here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Like...in the courtyard or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No, like in the bathroom when I was bleeding out.” Klaus says, like this is normal.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego feels like he’s been punched in the gut because he really doesn’t want to tell his brother what he’s thinking. Instead of speaking he’s rubbing his face, trying to get rid of the lines and grooves of stress in his skin as his brain tries to come up with something to say. </span>
</p><p class="p3">“Klaus...you know that probably means-“ Diego starts, voice soft and delicate like any word could shatter the other boy.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I know,” Klaus cuts him off, knowing how he must sound “I thought the same thing! But then he showed up the other day when I was uninjured and painfully sober.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And as much as Diego loves his brother he knows he’s not one for telling the truth. </span>
  <span class="s3"><em>Not even to himself</em>. </span>
  <span class="s2">But he’s already seen an upset Klaus too many times today and he’s not sure what he would say anyways.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay okay,” he placates, hoping it’s enough to calm down his brother.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You believe me?” Klaus asks, turning hopefully green eyes towards Diego.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego doesn’t want to look. Knows that if he’s staring into pleading eyes full of trust he wouldn’t be able to lie. Won’t be able to speak without tripping over his words and stumbling over the truth.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But Klaus is waiting. Staring expectantly at his brother, fingers tucked under his chin with bated breath. So Diego sucks it up, biting the inside of his cheek till he tastes blood before speaking:</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I believe you,” he lies, his voice firm and steady, not a stutter in site.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Klaus smiles wide, all teeth and hope. And it kind of makes Diego feel nauseous. He </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">wants</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2"> to believe Klaus, he does. He’s not sure if it’s Reginald whispering doubts in his ears or his own mind supplying them but he doesn’t believe Klaus. It wouldn’t be the first time the boisterous teen told a tall tale. But Diego can’t tell him this. Can’t say that he simply doesn’t believe Klaus, not because it’s impossible but because he thinks Klaus is a </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">liar</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2">. The word sounds dirty in his mind and he wants to scrub it out. Pour bleach into the crevasses of his brain until the awful thought is washed out. But it’s echoing in his mind: </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">liar, liar, liar. </span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2">And his fists are curling into themselves, wanting to punch the person for saying such things about his brother but the only person to blame is himself.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And Klaus is staring at him still, but Diego can’t bare to keep looking because he’s looking right through him. Right </span>
  <span class="s3">into</span>
  <span class="s2"> him. And he’s scared that Klaus can see the words behind his amber eyes. Mirroring the onslaught of never ending words that are reverberating in his skull that are getting louder and louder. </span>
  <em>
    <strong>
      <span class="s3">Liar. Liar. Liar.</span>
    </strong>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And he’s not quite sure if Klaus could take that.If his heart could handle the word. Because his heart is already made of loose threads and spindles of broken and cracked glass. Held together with moms soft touches and the sound of Vanya’s violin. With late nights on the fire escape with Ben and Diego and make up lessons with Allison. But he knows something as simple as a word could cut the threads, shatter the glass, and completely ruin him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Diego can do a lot. He can throw a knife around a corner and hit his target dead centre. He can kill a man with a spoon and not feel an ounce of guilt about it. He can speak 6 languages. He knows martial arts and first aid. He can dissemble a gun, clean, and reassemble it in a matter of minutes. But he can’t break his brothers heart. He </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2">.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Klaus’s fingers, long and thin like the rest of him, his height having </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">finally</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2"> caught up to his limbs, reach for Diego’s. He squeezes his brothers hand with cold fingers but the touch is warm all the same.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">They both know they would get the belt if Reginald saw this, but Klaus risks it anyways. Fingers lingering for a moment before retreating back to his side. And Diego thinks that Klaus has always been the brave one.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I knew you would.” Klaus says. His voice is soft and sweet. And he sounds so vulnerable but oh so sure of himself that Diego wants to slice his own ears off with his knives, because he’s just not fucking good enough to hear that. Wants to twist the blade in his hand till it’s dripping red and angry. But he doesn’t do any of this. He stays completely still, watery eyes on the ceiling covered in groves and marks from the blades he tosses when he can’t sleep. Until there’s a laugh building in his throat that tastes of spite and irony. If anyone was the </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">liar</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2"> it was him. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope everyone enjoyed! Reviews and kudos are loved :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you like it! I already have the next chapter written but wanted to see if you guys like it first! Please let me know what you thought :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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